


in the air tonight

by thunderylee



Category: Kanjani8 (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-26
Updated: 2010-08-26
Packaged: 2019-01-30 09:02:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12650406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Turn-ons are subjective.





	in the air tonight

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

Ryo can feel something different about Yasu tonight. It’s in the air, something unspoken that seems to create a thick atmosphere between only the two of them in a crowd of eight.

It’s dark in the bar, even darker in the corner where Yasu leans back in the booth, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. They’re not even prescription, just fashionable in Yasu’s eyes, which are barely visible through the rose-tinted lenses.

Ryo can’t see it, but he can _feel_ Yasu looking at him. Staring hard enough to burn, not even trying to hide it with his body turned completely towards Ryo and his arms folded like he’s waiting for something.

Maybe he is. The shiver that courses down Ryo’s spine is more out of anticipation than unease. He looks at his hands, steady on his glass, wet with neglected condensation, and gathers his courage to move.

“Anyone want anything from the bar?” he offers, knowing damn well that the waitress had just brought them a round. “I’m going to go get some smokes.”

He could have said he was about to blow the bouncer for as much attention as they paid him as they waved him off. That is, everyone except Yasu.

Ryo prided himself in walking normally with the heat of Yasu’s stare on his back. His heartbeat became faster and faster as he approached the bar, sensing the familiar presence behind him so strongly that it had to be real, and it was almost relieving when he felt a firm grip on his arm and was spun around.

His back hit the bar and Yasu was in his face, narrowed eyes behind the dark lenses as a hint of pink tongue darted out to wet plump lips. Ryo met his gaze, the concept of fear not even existing as his nerves felt like they were going to shock him dead. The defined muscle in his arm started to throb, the sign of a forming bruise, and Ryo’s heart soared.

“ _You_ ,” Yasu hisses, and Ryo doesn’t know what he did to deserve this but he would like to know so that he can do it again. “You should know better.”

Ryo’s shoulder blades sting as Yasu steps closer, flattening him between the two extremes and right now Ryo’s not sure which will hurt more. His arm is even more sore when Yasu lets go of it, his fingers moving in a contrastingly light trail until they reach the sleeve of his shirt.

He tugs on the material, twists it in his fingers and flares his nostrils, and recognition dawns in Ryo’s mind. “ _Oh_ ,” he says, a little relieved, more disappointed. “I didn’t have time to change after filming-”

He had been planning to follow that with a joke about Yasu being the fashion police, but his words are stolen by Yasu’s tongue and the world seems to turn upside-down. Just for a brief second, though, being as Yasu pulls away before Ryo’s brain can properly register what the fuck just happened.

“I… what?” he says eloquently, feeling like his tongue is twisted inside his mouth with traces of Yasu lingering.

Now Yasu’s eyes are determined, hungry, and the lone finger dragging down Ryo’s torso is a very obvious clue as to what he’s hungry _for_.

Ryo eyes the print on his aloha shirt and quirks an eyebrow at the man who looks like he’s about to pounce on him right there at the bar. “Really?”

Yasu nods slowly, his fingers curling behind Ryo’s belt buckle and giving a firm yank forward. Ryo can feel how serious the other is, his eyes widening at the knowledge and the thrill behind it. He shivers again when Yasu leans in, this one going straight between his legs as the other’s breath tickles his ear with one word:

“Backseat.”

Never mind that it’s Ohkura’s car, the drummer is practically asleep at their table anyway and Subaru and Hina have barely started to slur. There is a long time before last call and Ryo doesn’t think twice before following Yasu out the door, partially not of his own control with the way Yasu’s holding onto the excess length of his belt like a leash.

He expects to be thrown down on his back but that’s not how it happens. This is _Yasu_ who shoves Ryo through the door face-first and drapes himself over Ryo’s back, hands sliding under his shirt and all over his chest while grinding against his ass from behind. Ryo braces himself with both hands on the door panel, arching into Yasu’s rough touch and relaxing at the first brush of those lips on the back of his neck.

A growl vibrates the top of his spine as Yasu rubs himself against the seat of Ryo’s jeans, his hands working open Ryo’s belt before the latter can even lament the existence of clothes. Ryo lets out an embarrassing whine when Yasu’s hand bumps against his cock, rock hard and aching for attention, becoming even harder when Yasu chuckles demonically into his skin.

“You really are a masochist,” he whispers in a tone that feels loving despite the situation. “This should be equally fulfilling for both of us, then.”

Ryo thought about shooting back a quip of some sort, but then Yasu has their pants around their knees and one hand spreading the cheeks of Ryo’s ass to allow air to penetrate somewhere it never has before. Ryo doesn’t bother to bite back his gasp because his desperation is evident in the way his body shudders, followed by a moan that steals his breath as lubricated fingers poke at the rim.

“Good, Ryo-chan,” Yasu says gently, his touch echoing his tone as he slips one finger inside Ryo, then another, his free hand drawing slow circles on Ryo’s hip with his thumb to comfort him. It works, Ryo’s body accepting him easily, two fingers stretching and curving until they graze something that has every one of his muscles trembling with want.

Yasu doesn’t stop, strumming that spot like it’s a guitar solo and Ryo feels like he could jump out of his own skin from the pressure. He’s very aware when a third finger sneaks in; it aches a little but he wants more, thinks of Yasu’s cock hard and throbbing inside him while moving in and out, pounding into him until he forgets his own name.

All at once it disappears and Ryo actually whimpers, not even feeling any shame about it Yasu’s face presses into his upper back, breath hot through the thin material of his shirt as the blunt head of Yasu’s cock presses against Ryo’s stretched opening. Ryo suddenly feels nervous and tenses up, but Yasu’s thumb starts up on his hip again and it’s instantly calming.

They both groan as Yasu enters him, slowing burying himself all the way before pulling out. He slams back in and Ryo jerks beneath him, the mixture of pain and pleasure crossing somewhere in the back of his throat where his moans die. It’s hard and sweaty and Ryo wouldn’t have it any other way, taking everything Yasu gives him over and over and succumbing to the feeling of the other thrusting deep inside him.

Ryo’s cock bounces from the force of Yasu’s actions, sporadically hitting the seat and his resulting noise is delayed, curling his fingers into the door panel as he tries to angle himself for more friction. The thought of just reaching down himself doesn’t even occur to him, his sounds coming out as more of an urgent whine than anything else.

Behind him, Yasu seems to be choking on his air, his rhythm faltering as his grip on Ryo’s hips tighten. He manages to detach one hand to reach around Ryo’s waist and _down_ , shaky fingers wrapping around hard flesh and Ryo’s so grateful that he could cry, a strangled moan tearing from his lungs as his body takes on a mind of its own.

His orgasm comes fast and Yasu lets it, slamming into him with the force of a bullet train that has him feeling like he’s going to smash his head in the door. Yasu pulls him off, Ryo’s cock spilling over his fingers as he pounds into Ryo even harder to make up for the sudden muscle tensing. Ryo feels Yasu bite down on his shirt as he abruptly stills, clutching onto Ryo’s hips while Ryo feels a strong pulse inside him.

It takes a lot of effort to move, but the discomfort wins out and Yasu finds some unused napkins in the console with which to clean them up. Ryo feels a little sore, with the promise of being worse when he actually sits down, but Yasu is gentle as he guides Ryo to turn around and his kiss erases any regret that may have formed in Ryo’s mind.

He thinks that when he’s done filming, he’ll ask the staff if he can keep the shirts.


End file.
